Bloodstained
by LegendOfZeldaFreak
Summary: Death. Dehydration. Extinction. False hope. The people of Hyrule don't know what to do when Ganondorf attacks and the Hero of Time doesn't show up. So, throughout it all, they stick to praying. *An AU where the Goddesses don't flood Hyrule when a suitable hero can't be found*


The smell of rotting flesh was strong. If not properly taken care of, its putrid stench could be smelled across long distances.

Unfortunately, the girl- or "trophy", as their usurper king had called her- was not being taken care of. Her body fell lifeless from the stake it was hung on. The blonde head of hair, once beautiful, was dyed red with blood until only tiny spots of yellow were showing. A pool of crimson blood was pooling on the dried up grass at her feet.

While the Moblins seemed to take pride- personal pride, as though they were the killers- in the corpse that used to be their princess, the Kakarikans were filled with disgust. Disgust for what happened to her, disgust for what was happening to them, disgust for their so-called king, disgust for almost everything in their pitiful lives.

Though there were soldiers in the small village of Kakariko, most had a skill to the smallest of power. Even if they were to stand up against the miscreant king and his followers, they would be squashed as easily as an ant under a boot.

So they waited, and they prayed.

* * *

The Zora did not need much to survive. They needed food in little amounts- a fish a day kept them full-, they could keep fine in the open air as long as it wasn't too hot, and they only needed to sleep about once a week for about two hours. The only thing they needed was water, and lot's of it.

The Zora barely had time to prepare before their domain was sucked free of all water except for the liquid in their bottles and other containers. They were helpless.

Many Zora- over half- died in the first week. Infants were no longer, pregnant Zora perished, and the elderly faded away.

The remaining members of the aquatic race trekked over to Lake Hylia and the Water Temple, which they found to be in the process of draining. They collected as much as the could in the three days they had left, but it looked like barely enough to last them a month when they were finished.

So they waited, and they prayed.

* * *

Kokiri Forest used to be known for its fun, for its childishness, for its carefree attitude. Its inhabitants were forever children, so why should they bother with trivial adult matters? There was always going to be a tomorrow, no matter what happened.

That statement couldn't have been any less wrong.

As it was, the Kokiri Forest was silent. Eerily silent. The only noises was the whistling wind, echoing off of long forgotten homes.

The forest itself seemed to be dying. Once thriving trees were decaying, the once soft grass was browning, and the once beautiful flowers were drooping.  
Rotting bodies of deserted animals lay scattered along the ground, their sides ripped open and their guts falling out.

Alone through it all sat a small, whiteish-brown tree still growing- the Deku Tree. His features contorted into a face of agony and the pain of loss- the loss of his forest and the loss of his family. And though the Deku Tree was alive, he was dying. He was dying in the slowest and most painful way possible.

So he waited, and he prayed.

* * *

Tough, scary, large, monsters, cold-blooded, and merciless. When most people saw the Gorons, those are some of the words that popped into their minds. In truth, the Gorons were big softies at heart. There wasn't much you could do to make the rock beings angry. Even if they were angry, most of the time it was for good-natured reasons.

One of the ways you could make a Goron angry was to harm or threaten their young. However the Gerudo king found out their weakness, he did, and threaten their young he did. He captured any Goron from newborns to Gorons in their late teenage years. They would not fall to harm if they promised unwavering loyalty to him and carried out whatever orders her gave.

That they did. Each one had blood on their hands. Disgusting, spine-chilling deeds were carried out, all for the sake of their children.

Their dead children. Children killed in the first week for being rebellious. Children animated by magic as proof of life for their parents. And the parents, they believed it. Their hope for their children was the one thing they all clung to in dark times.

So they waited, and they prayed.

* * *

If Hyrule's inhabitants had to agree on one thing, it would be that they all hated the Gerudo. Unlike the Gorons, they freely served their king. They were despicable.

They didn't know they had no choice in the matter.

In the beginning, they all adored their ruler. He was kind, just, and cared for all of them. Then there was power just dangling in front of him, and he was corrupted. In a flash, their king was gone and an imposter sat in his place. However, their loyalty was with him. They had all took an oath on the great Goddess of the Sands that they would stand by his every decision. It wasn't execution they feared, it was their goddess.

They waited, but they did not pray. The Gerudo knew it was pointless.

The Hero of Time was gone.


End file.
